


Broken Bodies

by MooseLane



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: (Yeah we all want it), Angharad Lives, Furiosa/Valkyrie if you want it, Gen, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Wounds, Names are precious in the Wasteland, Valkyrie lives, Women of the wasteland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseLane/pseuds/MooseLane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Broken bodies have a way of finding each other in the Wasteland. By magnetic force, or divining rod, they gather as if together they could make something whole.</p><p>(Angharad, Valkyrie, Miss Giddy, and Maddie make it out alive)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bodies

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Обломки тел](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7167548) by [vttstn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vttstn/pseuds/vttstn)



> Another unedited quick fic, so apologies for grammar and typos

Broken bodies have a way of finding each other in the Wasteland. By magnetic force, or divining rod, they gather as if together they could make something whole.

The tourniquet has been on long enough now that Valkyrie knows she will lose her leg. The ragged tips of bone protruding from her shin have begun to dry out, blood flaking off like dust. She swallows against a wave of nausea and reaches out for Maddie's hand, who grips her blindly. Maddie will lose one eye, maybe both. Many things lost, many more yet to lose.

Valkyrie takes a long swallow of water and returns to digging through the repair kit for her bike. The crash sheared off one of the bolts on the front wheel, but if she can find the right parts she is sure she can bend the struts back in place enough to get it moving again.

A figure appears on the crest of a dune, silhouetted by the sun. Valkyrie watches warily as the shadow splits into two. She feels Maddie tense by her side in response to her vigilance. Valkyrie curses and drags herself up, balancing on her good leg and brandishing Maddie's rifle menacingly. Without a word Maddie stands beside her with Valkyrie's rifle; the barrel is bent uselessly, but Maddie cannot make a shot anyway. Valkyrie tugs Maddie's hands to aim in the right direction.

As the figures reach the bottom of the dune, the sun leaves their backs and reveals their features. Valkyrie furrows her brow at the sight of what appears to be another Woman of the Citadel. Her long hair drapes in bloody tangles across her shoulders, and her gauzy white garments are stained dark and wrapped low around her abdomen, leaving the rest of her skin exposed to the burning heat of the sun. Her head is high but she stumbles as she walks.

The second figure could have been one of the Vuvalini, as grey and hunched with age as she is. But Valkyrie knows the stature and gait of every person in her tribe, and she does not know this woman.

As it becomes clear how painfully unarmed and empty-handed the approachers are, Valkyrie lowers her rifle but maintains her stance. At her word, Maddie does the same.

"Name yourselves!" Valkyrie calls when they come within vocal range. The younger woman seems not to hear, and continues shuffling towards them. Valkyrie hefts her rifle but does not raise it.

"I am the History Woman, and she is the Splendid One." The old woman clasps her companion's hand, but earns no response. "You are of the Many Mothers, are you not?"

Valkyrie does not move. "And how do you know us?"

"I know one of your daughters, lost long ago." The woman's voice strains less as they draw close, nearly within striking distance. "Can you spare us water? Else I fear we will soon be lost to the wastes."

Maddie nods toward the voices of the other women. "We will always help a sister in need." Valkyrie relents and gestures toward the bike. The History Woman retrieves a canteen and drinks deeply, then presses it to the Splendid One's hands. She does not drink, only pushes forward. Maddie tracks her movements as she goes by. "I think this one needs to rest," she says. "Come, now."

Maddie finds her pack with her foot and extracts a shawl. The History Woman wraps it around the young woman and eases her gently down. She unscrews the canteen in her hands and guides it to the woman's lips. Once the water runs over her tongue, the Splendid One takes over, drinking deeply.

Valkyrie leans heavily on her rifle and lowers herself to the ground in front of the pair, her leg sticking out at an awkward angle. "She'll have sun poisoning if she is not careful," she says, eyeing the peeling skin on the Splendid One's face and chest. She reaches out and pulls the canteen from the woman's face. "Drink in small sips."

Slowly, the Splendid One focuses her eyes on Valkyrie. "We are going to the Green Place," she says.

Valkyrie nods, feeling a crack in her heart for this woman. "Yes, we are."

When she has had a moment to rest, the History Woman asks Valkyrie to help check the Splendid One's wrappings. Beneath the linens is a wide, arching wound haphazardly packed with gauze and oozing blood. Valkyrie sucks in a breath as she wets a rag and begins to clean the wound. The Splendid One grits her teeth, drawing short breaths and staring hard at the sky.

"Maddie," Valkyrie calls. "We need some medicines."

"Do you have antibiotics? Or analgesics?" The History Woman asks, guiding Maddie to sit with them.

"We have what can be gathered from the wastes. Alcohols and oils, herbs and words."

They stitch the wound and smear it with a sticky green salve of meadowsweet, yarrow, echinacea, and honey, then anoint her peeling skin with aloe. They place a pack beneath her feet, and keep her head raised only enough so she can swallow water from the canteen.

Valkyrie reconstructs the bike as Maddie and the History Woman construct a splint for her leg. The Splendid One, somehow still awake, somehow still alive, watches the wasteland as if to defy the very elements with her gaze. Perhaps that is her power, Valkyrie thinks. Perhaps that is how she came this far.

All the while, the History Woman tells them stories—stories of Before, stories of After. Stories of the women of the Citadel, the edges of stories of the Vuvalini's lost daughter. Valkyrie thinks of this place they are going to, and her hands feel unsteady. She thinks of Furiosa, the one who returned to them after so long, and her fingers find surety again.

It takes another day of labor, prayers, and curses to get the bike into something approaches functional order. The front wheel oscillates wildly when the bike picks up speed, but it tracks close to straight when driven slowly. They construct a sled to pull behind the bike with blankets and scrapped sheet metal, ruins of the road war.

West, they ride.

**Author's Note:**

> I did some snow day writing, trading in a blizzard for the desert wasteland.
> 
> Mad Max tumblr party over at whowitnessedtheworld.tumblr.com


End file.
